


Young at Heart

by scullywolf



Series: TXF: Scenes in Between [16]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, Introspection, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:12:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4436783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullywolf/pseuds/scullywolf





	Young at Heart

_“That is… John Barnett. I’m sure of it.”_

People wondered why he had left Violent Crimes when he was arguably one of the most gifted profilers the Bureau had ever seen. Why he had altered his career trajectory so drastically, left the fast track to spend his days hunting monsters from a basement office. “Waste” his days, they said, waste his talent.

Well, this was why.

Because here he was, 10:30 at night, and still at work, not because he had to be, but because he couldn’t  _not_  be. He was incapable of shutting his brain down, of leaving the case at the office, and he certainly didn’t want to take it home with him.

Never mind the fact that these types of cases needed to be solved, and quickly, or more people were going to die.

And indeed, his uncanny ability to get inside the heads of murderers, rapists, the very  _worst_  kinds of monsters… that was what earned him his reputation, as someone who  _could_  resolve these cases quickly. But that ability came at a price, and the price, had he stayed in the VCU, would have been his sanity.

There is only so long the human body can go without sleep, so long the brain can obsess over the darkest evils of which man is capable, before it starts to revolt. And without the ability to put the job aside, to compartmentalize and cultivate a life separate from his work, well… that way lay madness. Mulder understood himself well enough to know that.

It wasn’t even that he didn’t stay late puzzling over X-Files. He absolutely did (though not as often). There was just something qualitatively different about trying to understand the paranormal, about trying to find answers to mysteries that didn’t involve the most shadowy corners of the human psyche. He was able to fixate without fear of losing himself in the process.

But anyway. Here he was, back where it all began, trying to anticipate Barnett’s next move. If it even really was him. The evidence all seemed contradictory: the handwriting and voice were unquestionably Barnett’s, but eyewitness accounts and official records suggested that was impossible. How could he have written that note with his right hand if Crandall swore he’d seen that hand amputated? And why were there no fingerprints?

Picking up the phone to call Reggie just then was more of a reflex than a decision made with any forethought.


End file.
